The way that Anthony Bourdain mixes the sublime with grit is legendary. One minute he is perfectly describing a highly nuanced way to make a delicate sauce and the next he is talking about how to properly buy drugs in an alley along with the best insults to use in a kitchen.

This patrician punk tells a very honest story that is immensely entertaining and hugely informative. You read this book for the food, the perspective on life, and the dirty secrets of chefs but what’s fascinating about it are Tony’s personal and romantic relationships. Blink and you’ll miss them as those lens flares are side quests at best in this story, but he clearly is aware of himself in a way that few people are and makes many many valiant, but ultimately failed, attempts to be his best for his romantic partners. It’s heartbreaking and painfully honest. Tony knew who he was with all his faults and exaltations. He was unable to outrun his demons in the end but for a few decades there, starting with this book, where he was able to let his better angels prevail, even if some of the battles were too close for comfort.

Tony is a great storyteller and the world is a little bit less wonderful without him. His reflections on life and its meaning are practical, elegant, and as devastating as brass knuckles to your jaw. His kitchen and restaurant tips are invaluable. Read this fucking book, and don’t buy fish on Tuesdays. RIP Anthony.

BUY THIS BOOK